I shall come into your dream
As a black ewe, approach the throne
On withered and infirm
Legs, bleating: «Padishah,
Have you dined well? You who hold
The world like a bead, beloved
of Allah, was my little son
To your taste, was he fat enough»
Я приснюсь тебе черной овцою
На нетвердых, сухих ногах,
Подойду, заблею, завою:
"Сладко ль ужинал, падишах?
Ты вселенную держишь, как бусу,
Светлой волей Аллаха храним...
Так пришелся ль сынок мой по вкусу
И тебе, и деткам твоим?"
«I have forgot the word that I had meant to say. / To palace of the shades flies a blind swallow / Upon clipped wings with shadows to play. / Night's song is in oblivion sung below. Immortelle does not bloom. I cannot hear bird's song. / Transparent are the mantles of night's horse herd / ...»
«For this that your arms I could not more tightly keep — / For this that your tender saltwater lips I've foresaken — / As much as abhorrent to me is this ruin half-asleep — / I must in Acropolis wait till the city awakens. The Aegeans ready the horse in the darkness profound, / With sh...»
«Under a coxcomb of a milky white / Isaac has built a graying pigeon cage / The crozier irritates the graying quiet / Gradations of the air the heart can gauge. There's wandering ghost of century-old requiem / Then the grand bearing of the shroud / Genessarian* darkness in decrepit seine /...»
«That evening organ’s arcing forest didn’t grumble — / The trees sang Schubert to us, their own cradle’s sound. / The windmill whispered, and in tempest’s stirring rumble / Was blue-eyed drunkenness of music’s laughter found. The world of ancient song is coloured green and russet /...»